


(It's a Love Story) Baby Just Say Yes

by sadhockeytrashbaby (allofthefandoms)



Series: Three's a Crowd [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Drunk Sex, Get Together, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/sadhockeytrashbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flower is not stupid,  and he’s not blind.</p><p>From the moment he sees Matt and Jeff together he knows their shared history goes beyond their time in Wilkes-Barre Scranton or the time they will inevitably spend together as his backups.  There’s an ease there, an intimacy,  especially given that Matt is still uneasy around most of the team.  He’s still a little starry eyed at only 21, but he’s happy to fold his lanky body into Jeff’s space with a special grin reserved only for his fellow goaltender.</p><p>So Marc waits and watches, sure the pieces will eventually click into place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(It's a Love Story) Baby Just Say Yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dragons_and_angels](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/gifts).



> I was so happy to have everything an excuse to write the goalie threesome that's been floating around my head! I tried to get your likes of equally drunk sex and morning after domesticity in there, dragons_and_angels, but this fic kinda took on a life of its own. Hope you like it anyway.
> 
> If you're worried about the tags, there is a spoilery content warning in the end notes, but I think the tags cover it. As always, comments and conceit are always welcome.

Flower is not stupid, and he’s not blind.

From the moment he sees Matt and Jeff together he knows their shared history goes beyond their time in Wilkes-Barre Scranton or the time they will inevitably spend together as his backups. There’s an ease there, an intimacy, especially given that Matt is still uneasy around most of the team. He’s still a little starry eyed at only 21, but he’s happy to fold his lanky body into Jeff’s space with a special grin reserved only for his fellow goaltender.

So Marc waits and watches, sure the pieces will eventually click into place.

The more he watches, the more obvious it becomes. Even with inches on Jeff, Matt somehow seems to always make himself small, tucking himself around Jeff on plane rides and on the bus, in the locker room and in bars and clubs. They are always found together at dinners or at practice, joking and at ease. It would be prime chirping material, but for all his taste for pranks and jokes, Marc knows some things are just off limits. If they don’t want to come out to him or the team, that’s their business. They aren’t the only ones with secrets. 

He has his suspicions rather graphically confirmed after Matt’s first shut out. He had been feeling good enough to come to the game, and was handing out fist bumps and chirps in the locker room. He sits to field a few questions from the press, and by the time he’s done with his rub down and check in with the team doctors, the area is mostly empty. He’s heading towards the parking lot when he hears a groan from a massage room nearby. He sticks his head in to say goodbye and immediately regrets it.

“Fuck Matty.” Jeff is sprawled between Matt’s legs, kneeling at the foot of the chair he’s sprawled on, pressing opened mouthed kisses to Matt’s cock. The only reason Matt hasn’t seen Marc is because he has his arm thrown over his face.

“Your composure, Jesus fuck it’s hot,” Jeff goes on, oblivious to his audience. “Nothing fucking rattles you and you’re just a kid.” While Marc can’t see with Jeff’s bulk in the way, he guesses from the way that Matt twitches and whimpers that Jeff is playing with his balls while he talks, or maybe he’s fingerings him. The thought hits Marc like a punch to the gut. He knows he should move, close the door or make some sort of noise so they know they aren’t alone, but he’s frozen in place, hard in his compression shorts.

“Jeff…” Marc is struck with the thought that all the whining and gasping makes Matt seem like the boy he really is, desperate to please. Jeff sucks him down and Matt comes, his whole body arching as he smothers a moan in his hand. Jeff flips him, and the casual display of strength makes Marc throb in his shorts. Jeff frees his own cock from his workout pants, pressing Matt’s legs shut before sliding in. It takes Marc a moment to understand that Jeff is fucking Matt’s thighs and not his ass.

The moment Jeff comes, Marc stinks away, flooded with guilt.

(He will take it to his grave, but it was hot enough to be his go to fantasy for the rest of the season. Sitting in his too big bed, he lets himself remember it, or sometimes imagines himself slotted between them. He tries not to think too hard about why, but those are the fantasies where he comes the hardest.)

. .

They’ve won it all.

There’s a part of Marc that’s bitter that he only played 4 periods the whole playoffs, but it’s washed away by the joy of holding the most perfect 35 pounds above his head again after so long. Matt and Jeff are tangled up in each other, faces painted with amazement and disbelief, and Marc knows exactly what type of giddy rush they are both feeling. He swaps his game day backup hat for a Stanley Cup Champions one as soon as he can, and tilts his face up for the inevitable wash of champagne and beer foam as he walks into the locker room.

Marc looses track of how many sips he takes from the bottle being passed around, or how many different bottles end up being pressed into his hands. Booze is booze, and the euphoria of victory is a better high than any drink or drug. 

It’s not long before Matt corners him, face rosy with drink and eyes a little glassy. He presses right against Marc’s chest, the extra inches forcing Marc to look up at him. He’s sticky and reeking of booze but Marc can’t stop looking at his lips. Matt’s gets a knowing look in his eyes and links his lips, and Marc throws his head back with a frustrated thud.

“Wanna kiss you,” Matt says with the earnestness of the very drunk. “Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” Matt presses close, lips parting, but Marc pushes him back gently.

“I think your boyfriend gets some say in the matter,” he replies gently. It’s not a total no, but Marc isn’t drunk enough that he’s willing to be a secret one night stand that Matt will regret in the morning when he’s sober. He doesn’t expect Matt to burst into happy giggles.

“Let’s go find him then,” Matt says, eyes sparkling. “I know he wants to kiss you too.” Marc follows, still not quite understanding.

“Tishy!” Matt cries, draping himself over the smaller goalie. Jeff’s smile is so fond that Marc feels his chest squeeze.

“I take it he cornered you to ask,” Jeff says to Marc, who gives a little nod. “Don’t worry, you won’t be a home wrecker if you kiss him back.”

“And you?” Marc asks. “Matt said you wanted to kiss me too.” Jeff blushes faintly, giving a tiny nod. Marc leans in, kissing Jeff first. He smiles into the kiss when he hears their matching punched out groans.

. .

They stagger into a training room together, not wanting to be out of physical contact for longer than they have to. Marc isn’t too keen on making the same mistake Jeff and Matt did, so he makes sure to take a moment to lock the door behind them before he presses Matt up against the wall. Matt may be taller than he is, but Marc has had years to develop muscle that Matt simply doesn’t have yet.

“You’re gonna be quite something when you get a little more meat on these bones,” Marc purrs and Matt shudders. Marc relishes the chance to undo the usually so composed man. Marc has always been a quick and careful study, and Matt’s body is no exception. Soon he has the man gasping and whining. Up close, it’s better than Marc had ever imagined.

“He really likes being fingered,” Jeff says, making Marc start. He feels a little bad for getting g so caught up in Matt, but one look at Jeff reassures him that Jeff is having a plenty fine time just watching.

“Does he?”

“You can get him off two or three times with just a finger.”

“Ah to be young,” Marc says, grinning at Matt, who’s bright red. 

“Well, good recovery is important for a goalie,” Jeff says straight faced. Marc shoves Matt at him with a fond groan. Jeff begins to undress him, hands tracing familiar paths. Matt is panting as if he’d just gotten off the ice, visibly hard in his pants, but he’s holding perfectly still for Jeff, who rewards him with a lingering kiss. Marc steps up behind Matt, pressing a kiss of his own to the junction of Matt’s neck and shoulder. Matt lets out a sharp whine, trembling between them.

“How do you want him, Flower?” Jeff murmurs.

“Face down, ass up, “ Marc instructs. “Want to see just how much of a mess I can make of him.” Matt shudders and gets his long limbs arranged comfortably on a massage chair. Marc looks around and spots some unscented massage oil. Coating his fingers generously, he begins to slowly work Matt open.

Even one finger has Matt clenching down and moaning. Marc must make a face, because Jeff laughs.

“I know, right? I’ve been doing this for a year and he still acts like it’s the first time. “

“He’s as tight as if it was the first time.” Matt pushes back impatiently and Marc refocuses. It isn’t long before Matt gives a choked off gasp as Marc drags a finger along his walls, cock dripping onto the chair. He keeps up a litany of gasping whines and Marc is relieved that everyone else is too wrapped up in the celebration to notice just how loud Matt is being. Jeff comes over, slipping in front of Matt to kiss him just as Marc adds another finger. Matt’s whole body locks down for a long moment as he comes. 

“Both of you are clean, right?” Marc pants, three fingers buried deep in Matt as he tries to stave off his own orgasm. “I really don’t fancy hunting down a condom right now and I really want to fuck you.”

“Do it, do it,” Matt pants, pressing back. When Marc looks at him, Jeff gives a little nod, and it’s all the permission Marc needs to shove his alcohol soaked workout pants down and press in.

Somehow Matt feels even tighter around Marc’s cock than he did around his fingers, and it punches a low groan from the vicinity of his stomach and he has to freeze to avoid coming on the spot. Jeff is swallowing up Matt’s gasps and whines, but Marc can still see the wetness in his eyes as he begins to move.

“Fuck you’re tight,” Marc gasps, trembling. Matt pushes back, and Marc can’t refuse him, even with the risk of embarrassing himself. When Matt shifts to get his mouth on Jeff, the change in angle makes him clench down even harder and Marc let’s out a vicious string of swears. He knows he’s too close to bank on Matt coming on his cock after his first orgasm, so he manages to balance so he can take Matt’s cock in hand as he thrusts. Matt is a mess, thick and slick in Marc’s grip and flushed and hot to the touch. It only takes him a few jerks thrusts into Marc’s hands to come in sticky spurts and the rhythmic pressure sets Marc off as well, panting into Matt’s shoulder as it feels like he comes forever. 

When Marc comes back to himself, it’s to see Jeff with one hand In Matt's hair and the other jerking himself off. As Marc watches, Jeff comes all over Matt’s face. That’s enough to draw yet another whimper from Matt as he chases the come on his lips and cheeks with a darting pink tongue.

. .

Marc wakes with a groan, glad to be back in his own bed after the whirlwind of victory. He’s hungover and sore, but it isn’t until his ass twinges that the previous night comes rushing back to him.

Matt and Jeff had come home with him, two days into endless drunken joy and full of energy. They had kissed and fucked in every combination on every surface in the house.

But now Marc’s bed is empty and his heart sinks into his stomach. Sobriety must have arrived and with it regret. Marc swallows around the knot in his throat. He should have known better than to think it was anything but platonic appreciation mixed with the adrenalin high of victory.

But then he hears a clank and a curse, followed by a second voice shushing the first. Getting out of bed, Marc throws on a bathrobe, padding downstairs with a puzzled expression.

“Shit, we woke him up,” Matt says when he sees him, face collapsing. “Told you that you were being too loud Jeff.”

“Not my fault he lives like a bachelor and I couldn’t find the frying pan,” Jeff mutters, finally finding what he was looking for. He triumphantly sets the pan down and grabs the eggs and starts cracking them into a large bowl.

“It’s…it’s been a while since anyone has wanted to cook for me,” Marc says softly, a little taken aback. Matt’s face goes soft and he pulls Marc close.

“Well, it’s not breakfast in bed like we planned, but Jeff makes a mean loaded scramble, so maybe when he’s done cooking we could all curl up on the couch and watch cartoons or something?”

“That…that sounds wonderful,” Marc says, voice a little wobbly. Soon enough, food is ready and they pile onto Marc’s too small sofa.

“Gonna have to get a new couch,” Matt teases. “Not big enough for three goalies.”

“Wait, what?” Marc asks, frozen by the thought behind Matt’s words. Both Matt and Jeff have gone very still, faces pale.

“Unless…” Matt pulls out of Marc’s space, eyes damp and downcast.

“We didn’t mean this as a one time fling,” Jeff says sounding hurt. “We thought you were on the same page. I know I probably won’t be here next year, but I thought you were willing to try to make it work…”

“You want me…” Marc says dumbly, hating the aching swell of hope behind his breastbone. “Both of you…? Me?” Understanding blooms on both of their faces and Jeff pulls Marc in for a sweet kiss. He tastes like cheese and sweet peppers and eggs.

“Yeah, you,” Jeff murmurs. “We want a lazy summer filled with omelets and your stupid couch for one, I want you to hold me when I inevitably have to sign somewhere else and I want you to promise me that whatever happens you’ll take care of Matty next year when I’m gone.” Marc nods, shell-shocked and overwhelmed.

“We love you,” Matt adds, tucking himself back along Marc’s side, stealing a bite of his eggs. “ And we’re yours if you want us.”

“Course I want you,” Marc murmurs, kissing Matt’s hair and reaching for Jeff. “Of course I do.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think it was proper dubcon, but there is an attempted kiss without consent that leads into consensual but drunk sex as well as voyeurism in which the parties having sex don't know they're being watched after being accidentally found having sex. I think the tags cover both scenarios, but just in case you wanted more specifics.


End file.
